


The Council Meeting

by vesuviannights



Category: The Arcana (Visual Novel)
Genre: Cockwarming, Dominant Valerius, F/M, M/M, Other, Public Sex, gender neutral reader
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-14
Updated: 2019-09-14
Packaged: 2020-10-18 09:15:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 718
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20636738
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vesuviannights/pseuds/vesuviannights
Summary: Valerius makes you sit on his cock during a council meeting, during which you are also expected to take notes and not make a single sound.(Gender neutral reader, no pronouns used).





	The Council Meeting

**Author's Note:**

> Written for an anon ask on my Tumblr (@vesuviannights).

You know there are important words being said. Things about trade, unions, the work to be done on the city square to welcome in the new year. Normally you would be keeping track of all of them for the consul, and the pen and paper before you certainly suggest that.

But the cock nestled inside of you suggests very much otherwise.

Valerius’ fingertips stroke gently up your bare arm, causing little goosebumps to appear and your entire body to shiver at his caress. It’s a battle not to tighten every muscle against it, to let it roll through you for everyone to see, because the alternative is far more dangerous.

“Will you make note of that for me, pet?” Valerius murmurs to you. You swallow, your grip tightening on the edge of the table. “Pet?”

“O-of course,” you murmur. You’re proud of how little of the shake you truly feel finds its way into your voice. “I…what am I writing down?”

Valerius chuckles quietly, almost cruelly amused at your distracted answer. Your eyes flicker up to Lucio, sitting three down at the head of the table; he’s watching you with a cocked eyebrow and a barely concealed glint in his eye. 

You think, for the briefest and most terrifying moment, that he knows, and it causes your entire body – including the walls of your aching hole – to tighten around Valerius, and the tiniest little whimper to escape from the hollow of your throat before you can swallow it down.

But the Count looks away, his gaze darting to a visiting advisor to his left who has been pressing to speak about new trade routes the entire two hour meeting. It has been the second-worst kind of torture you’ve had to endure at this table.

Valerius leans forward, curling a piece of hair behind your ear so that he can murmur into it.

“Would you like me to dictate what you need?” He asks you softly. You relax and nod, relieved that he is taking mercy on you.

“The first dot point,” he starts, pressing a chaste kiss to your shoulder. “Is that I’m going to fuck you until you pass out as soon as we get back, in reward for being such a good little pet.”

Your gaze freezes, and the tiniest little smirk begins to form at the corners of your lips as you eye where your pen is paused at the first line, ready to write.

“Would you like me to write that verbatim, or in your preferred shorthand?” You ask. He smirks into your shoulder, pressing another and decidedly less chaste kiss there, accompanied by the scrape of his teeth and a soft sigh.

“You may write whatever your heart desires,” he answers. “Dot point. Shorthand. Draw me a pretty little picture of how your face will contort in pure bliss as I fuck you against the dresser, just the way you like.”

You lick your lips and nod, then begin writing down what you can vaguely hear being said between the Count and his visitor, as well as the shorthand of what Valerius had told you, with a few addendums of your own for how it should proceed _after_ he has fucked you against the dresser.

When you are done, you straighten a little, the movement shifting him inside of you, but you swallow back your moan and squeeze him to get his attention. Ever the picture of propriety and composure, he leans forward and glances at the page you have lifted for him to see.

“Very good, pet,” he praises quietly. You turn your head to receive his kiss, and squeeze him once more for good measure. He sighs – just the barest, quietly growl – against your lips. “I should have known you would be such a good little cockwarmer at these dull meetings. Perhaps next time I will make you come while we’re still here.”

Your cheeks flush, the tips of your ears heat, and as you turn your attentions back to the conversation at large and try your very best not to keen from the feel of his cock as it twitches inside of you, you think that perhaps you will let him.

And perhaps, just for the sheer thrill of the punishment, you will not be quiet when he does.


End file.
